


We were built to fall apart (then fall back together)

by tryalittlejoytomorrow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, F/M, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Smut, smut with feelz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 07:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5735590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryalittlejoytomorrow/pseuds/tryalittlejoytomorrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts like things can only happen between them, with a bruising kiss that tastes bitter and sick with just a hint of the desperation and anger he's felt watching her leave.</p>
<p>(Clarke comes back. Things are complicated.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We were built to fall apart (then fall back together)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HawthorneWhisperer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/gifts), [alienor_woods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienor_woods/gifts).



> This is a gift for @alienor_woods and @hawthornewhisperer, for no particular reason except that I didn't feel like studying and wrote this thing out of the blue.
> 
> This is canon compliant, in the sense that it is set during S3 where we know Bellamy has a girlfriend at some point and Bellamy and Clarke reunite.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Taylor Swift's "Out Of The Woods".

It starts like things can only happen between them, with a bruising kiss that tastes bitter and sick with just a hint of the desperation and anger he's felt watching her leave.

She's been all sharp edges since she returned, barely sleeping, taking the rage and the disappointment people were throwing her way for leaving, but all of a sudden his hands are in her hair and her mouth on his and no matter what they're still a team, and _this_? This is what they do. He's pissed and he knows he has the right to, but he understands her, too, and he could never hate her, and she's melting in his arms and he remembers every painful heartbeat while she was gone and he's almost certain he's in love.

Later, when she breathes his name against his lips, small, soft, like a broken prayer, her fingers digging at his hips, he _knows_ he is.

 

* * *

 

Gena feels like the brave flower that grows after the harshest of winters. Unbent, unbroken. Beautiful.

In the aftermath of Mount Weather, Bellamy feels like they're landing on Earth all over again. The kids are not all right; Jasper won't look anyone in the eye, Monty hides, and Raven snaps. And the adults are no better, so it falls upon his shoulders to do his best. It's tedious and exhausting and there's a voice in his head that tells him that he _can't_ fail them, but Bellamy also knows he was never the head. Clarke was. She made the plans and he inspired the kids to fight, that's the way it goes. But now Clarke's gone, and Raven's not really herself anymore, and Octavia's so angry he doesn't know how to talk to her anymore.

And then there's Gena.

She doesn't take any of his bullshit, doesn't let him think he can't do this. She doesn't pretend to know or understand anything he's gone through. But she reminds him that his friends are alive thanks to him, that Kane trusts him, and that she believes in him.

Gena is what he didn't know he wanted, had never allowed himself to truly want, and exactly what he needs.

(They see their first snowdrops and daffodils bloom, and so will they.)

 

* * *

 

Octavia is happy for him, but he can't help resenting the venom in her mouth when she so obviously refers to Clarke and how she didn't deserve his loyalty and his faith.

She might train to be a warrior and think she could kill anyone who'd try to hurt the ones she loves, but she's still just a kid sometimes, and Bellamy doesn't have the patience, or the strength, to explain that Clarke isn't a monster for what _they_ did.

He might understand why she left - and God, how he does - but Bellamy's not sure he can yet forgive her.

 

* * *

 

He hears her name with no anger nor bitterness laced to it for the first time in months, and it puts him immediately on alert, ready for everything.

For _her_ , he's always been.

 

* * *

 

It's hard in the beginning.

It's hard all the time, if he's being honest. Clarke's finally here after she's not been for so long, and they all need adjusting; but while they do, they look at her like she's something of a beast, something of a monster, not a part of them anymore, when she used to be the head and he was her heart and when did this happen? When did friends start looking at each other like that?

She stays away from everyone; keeps close to Monty, or Lincoln, or her mother and Kane. Avoids Octavia and Jasper; shares small, grateful smiles with Monroe, Harper or Miller. He knows how much Raven's missed her, and how she hates herself for not being strong enough to go talk to her.

They look at each other with a look he remembers from the early days; there's dread and hope beneath it, something shaky, something that could crumble so easily. But it doesn't. They're still in this together, just makes sense, and when Clarke hovers at the back of the Council tent, he's the one to guide her beside him.

Side by side, that's where they should always be.

 

* * *

 

He wishes he could say it happens this way:

He likes Gena, and she's good for him, and she's honestly an all-around amazing girl. But he's realized that now that Clarke's back he can really breathe again, and this isn't fair because they'll probably love each other to ruins, but it wouldn't be fair either to pretend he can be with someone else. Not now that he knows, not anymore.

He tells Gena, who understands, because she's so good at reading him, and she doesn't deserve to be loved in halves. She doesn't cry, she's not upset, she understands; she's never mentioned Clarke before, never tried to be a part of something she wasn't, but she's always known that the bond that tied them defied anything.

He finds Clarke and they get five minutes of peace where no one needs them or dies, and they kiss, and it erases the months she was gone.

 

* * *

 

It _doesn't_ happen like that.

 

* * *

 

Two or three weeks after Clarke's come back, Gena kisses him on the corner of his mouth and says, "This isn't gonna work for me anymore."

He can't even protest or pretend that he doesn't understand why. She's amazing, but he watches her leave his tent without even trying to hold her back, and she doesn't deserve that, and he should tell her that she's great but that Clarke's been in his heart far before he even realized it, and that he's sorry if he's made her feel like she was just a rebound because, God, he really did like her, he does like her, and -

Bellamy doesn't say anything.

 

* * *

 

"You're crazy," he spits, because he can't believe she's coming at him with this shit for the second time. "I'm done talking about this."

His tone would leave no room for argument with anybody else, but not her, _never her_ , and Clarke gives him that look he remembers, too; the light tilt of her head to the side, the fear and the need to hold onto him and hear him say he's on her side in her blue eyes. Once she'd asked him to say he was with them; now she's asking him to let her go. _Again_. "I'm not," she says, soft but steady. "It's the only way."

"You keep saying that," Bellamy grits, clenching his hands into fists at his side in a trembling rage he hasn't felt in a long time. "But how is you leaving with them going to help?"

"It's not like they want to kill me anymore," Clarke tries to counter.

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't trust the people who wanted to torture Finn to death," Bellamy yells, and he sees the hurt flicker in her eyes but he dismisses it, because he's done listening to her telling him he needs to stand and watch as she sacrifices herself again and again. "I'm not letting you go with them," he says, final.

Clarke frowns, but the spark of indignation at his order that he expects doesn't come. Her mouth opens slightly, and she blinks her lashes, and he sees her resolve melt before she speaks again, quiet, like a whisper. "I can't let anybody die for me again," she admits. "I can't risk everyone."

"They need you," Bellamy counters, and he takes a step towards her as he adds, softer, gentler, " _I_ need you. I can't do this if you leave."

She bites her lip, and focuses her eyes on his unclenched hands, and how one has reached out to her before falling back at his side. "I don't want to. You don't know how it's like to -"

"Leave everyone behind?" Bellamy interrupts her, and he's surprised by how calm he manages to remain. Because he _does_ know how it felt when _she_ left. But he also knows what it's like to believe leaving is the only solution; for Octavia's sake, he'd been ready to. "You didn't have to. You could've stayed," he says, almost pleads, even months later.

Clarke shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself, and the urge to wrap his around her fights to overcome the bitterness he can't help feeling. She's back but she might as well be gone tomorrow, and he wants to yell at her and shake her, and tell her exactly how it felt when she left, how many nights he heard the kids cry and pretend like they didn't the next morning, and how Raven thinks she's broken when she's nothing but fierce and whole, how Monty can't forgive himself for Maya, and how he hasn't spent a single minute worrying about her, wondering where she was, and if she was getting the peace he would have wanted nothing more than to give her.

He doesn't know how to tell her without making her feel guilty, and Bellamy can't be sure that he doesn't want that, even if just a little, for selfish reasons. Because he needs her to know that she broke his heart but that he managed to function without her because that's what their people needed; because he wants her to feel bad for breaking the promise she'd made him that he wouldn't be by himself. Because he _meant_ it when he said they were in this together, so why did she leave?

She looks up at him, unshed tears blurring her eyes, and he's still pissed, still hurt, but she's here and nothing lasts on Earth and if she leaves tomorrow, if she promises she won't but still sneaks out in the middle of the night, he can't let her go without telling her. "Clarke -"

But the words die in his throat when she unfolds her arms and reaches out to him, and her fingers burn him through the fabric of his shirt. "Don't - don't say anything, okay?" she pleads, and has he ever been immune to those eyes?

She tugs and he bends his head, and it feels unreal until her lips touch his and when did this happen, what happened exactly, Bellamy doesn't know, but her hand is warm above his heart and his tangle in her blonde curls and he's kissing her back, firm where she was hesitant and experimental, hot and urgent and _real_.

Clarke lets out a moan when they part and Bellamy kisses a trail down her jaw, her neck, and then he feels her hands tugging at his belt and maybe this is going too fast, and it's a terrible idea, but she'll be gone tomorrow or next week, he knows it, because she's scared and she's confused but _fuck_ , _so is he_ , and if this is all they ever have, then so be it.

"I was dating someone," he hears himself say as he slips his hands beneath her shirt, just shy of her breasts, and Clarke stills for a second.

But it doesn't last, and she kisses him again, harder this time, as she tugs the hem of his shirt up. "I slept with someone," she replies, and pauses to kiss a path up the skin newly uncovered. "I was trying to forget. Didn't work."

He wants to ask, and he doesn't, and her fingers curl in his hair as she brings her mouth to his again and there's no question asked, nothing left to say, and her skin is hot when his hands find their way under her shirt again. And then it lies on the floor with his and both their pants, and he's kissing down the valley between her breasts, sucking her nipple through her bra, and the breathy moan that escapes her lips brings him to full hardness.

"God, I want you," she says, out of breath, and Bellamy looks up at her and she looks so beautiful, her hair a mess from his fingers tangling in it, her eyes dazed, and her chest heaving, he wants to shout it. Instead he stands, and slips his hands beneath her thighs, carrying her to his bed.

Her hair spreads around her face on the makeshift pillow and he can't help but stare at her a little, commit the visual to memory. He almost expects her to be impatient, to snap her fingers, but Clarke just stares back, her tongue chasing the taste of him on her lips, and he resumes kissing down her body, her stomach twitching beneath his lips, until he reaches her underwear and his name comes out of her mouth, low and torn in half. " _Bell_ -"

He buries the urge to make her promise she'll stay as he presses his tongue to her above her underwear and feels how wet she is already, and Clarke's hips chase his mouth for half a thrust when Bellamy pulls back only to tug her panties down. He laps at her and her head falls back to the bed as she brings a hand to her mouth, muffling the moans that grow louder and louder at every flick of his tongue. Bellamy runs a hand up her thigh then, and he feels her shiver despite how feverish her skin feels. He takes his time; nips at the inside of her thigh, learns the way her back arches when he focuses on her clit, how her breathing grows shallow when he slides a finger inside her, how she can't muffle the unholy sounds she makes when he adds a second. Clarke reaches out for him, curling her fingers in his hair as a breathy _fuck_ escapes her throat and her hips start thrusting in earnest against him, and Bellamy doesn't change anything except the pace as he sucks her clit with more intent until he feels her tighten around his fingers.

Clarke's orgasm hits her like a crushing wave, and she keens out something that sounds so close to _I missed you_ that Bellamy doubles his efforts to make it last for her. He stops when her fingers tug at his hair a little, enough to make him look up and see just how much of a mess she is.

"Come here," Clarke whispers, and Bellamy doesn't need to be told twice, leans over her with one arm, the other brushing at her side, and Clarke cups his face with both hands and kisses him with ardor, tasting herself on his tongue.

One of her hands leaves his face, and Clarke laughs in his mouth when his abs ripple beneath her hand as it reaches his underwear. She palms his cock through the fabric, and her laughter turns to a deep moan, to which Bellamy responds with a hissing curse. "God, stop doing that, or -"

"I need you now," Clarke cuts him off, and gives a tug at his underwear. Bellamy gets the hint and slides it off, and then he's finally naked above her, and when he meets Clarke's eyes they're wide and dazed and filled with desire.

But he can't help but ask, because this is the girl who said _I can't lose you too_ but still left. "You sure?" he asks, and kisses the corner of her mouth, his hand curling at her hip as he lines himself up.

Clarke doesn't answer with words. She tilts her head instead, and catches his lips in a kiss that's so soft, so gentle, that he can feel the taste of an apology on her tongue, and then she murmurs his name against his mouth and it urges him to thrust into her.

He stills for a minute, and Clarke's lips are hovering just near his, her mouth open in a silent gasp as she screws her eyes tightly shut, and Bellamy kisses down her neck, nibbles at her throat until she digs her nails into his hips and urges him to move. He doesn't at first; not until she opens her eyes again and he can't deny her anymore, and he kisses her like he's always wanted to, with fire and abandon, like this is their last night on Earth and who knows, it might be, and if it's not then he needs to have her like this every day for as long as he can.

She's on the edge of a second cliff, he can feel it, and his own climax isn't far, with the way he can feel her chest heaving against his, or the feel of her fingers dancing along his spine and digging at the small of his back, and he's kissing her when she murmurs his name in a way that makes his heart skip a beat and he hikes her leg up and his hips slow, until he's rocking so softly against hers that he just knows the exact moment when something snaps inside her and slides a hand between them to help her along.

When she comes down from her high, he kisses her cheek and rolls away from her on his side, and Clarke immediately follows, and it'll make it harder when she leaves, but Bellamy forces himself to push the thought away and enjoy it while it lasts.

 

* * *

 

She doesn't leave.

 

* * *

 

He knows Octavia wants to say something, because she still hasn't forgiven Clarke, and she's just as fiercely protective as he is. But she doesn't, and he's grateful, because Bellamy believes that this time, Clarke's back for good.

 

* * *

 

Things go to shit, like they always do.

But they face them together.

 

* * *

 

_the end_

 


End file.
